Pushing On

I'm very keen to keep my fitness level up, and so when I saw how calm it was outside this morning I decided to cycle into Fram for my paper and some shopping. The weather forecast showed a horrible band of rain reaching these parts by noon, with wind strengthening from the west, but I planned to be back before then. Generally it's a trip of around 45 minutes, involving as it does an almost completely downhill ride going and the opposite coming back. I set off well prepared, cagoul, hat, gloves and bottle of water fastened on the seat behind me, and almost immediately the doubts began as the wind got up and the cold hit my chest. I argued with myself almost the whole way into town: Go back! No! Turn around! No! It'll be fine. It won't! What's the worst that can happen? I'll have to walk back in a rainy gale! And on and on ....

I made it OK and got my shopping on wobbily legs. It was much windier now, so I decided to put on my spare clothes before leaving. There's a long, slightly uphill stretch between the castle and the college, sheltered by tall trees, and I tackled this with comparative ease. Then I turned up the very steep hill beside open fields and had to get off and push the bike. It wasn't just the steep incline but also the wind which was tearing across from my right and threatening to topple me off the bike. Back in the saddle at the top, sheltered again by trees, I heard the cry of a curlew and stopped to look for it. A couple of joggers approached, the pink-clad woman leading. We exchanged polite greetings, and I told her how refreshing it was to see the woman in front of the man. "But he made me take the lead," she laughed. Further on, now really battling to stay upright, I pedalled past a grey-haired woman power-walking towards me. We laughed when we saw each other, two 60-somethings out in a gale, pushing ourselves hard. "You're brave," she called as she passed me, and I felt that I was. As I turned into my lane, which follows sharp geometric angles, turning first west, then east, then west again and then south, I simply couldn't stay on board. The wind was very fierce and gusting strongly, so that while I could just about keep riding as it hit me abeam it would suddenly lash at me and make me swerve violently and dangerously.

I made it back, of course I did, and how triumphant I was as I put the bike away and entered the warm kitchen. Yesss, I hissed, and as I look out of the window the rain started. But what had happened to the wind? The trees were not moving at all now. Wind or rain. Wind and rain. The weather always gets the better of you.